


I've Always Been Yours

by LadySokolov



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Love Confessions, M/M, Quiet Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySokolov/pseuds/LadySokolov
Summary: It's been a month since Bruce and John have seen one another. A month of promise and tension and shared glances across court rooms and psychiatry offices. Is it any wonder that when they're finally reunited they can barely keep their hands off one another?Or, a NSFW take on the vigilante ending.





	I've Always Been Yours

**Author's Note:**

> For [ @oh-shit-what-time-is-it ](http://oh-shit-what-time-is-it.tumblr.com) on tumblr.

It had been weeks before they had gotten through all the legal red tape and the psych assessment alone, and John was alone in Arkham for another week ‘settling in’ before he was allowed to have any visitors at all. All up it had been almost a month since Bruce had last been able to talk to John, let alone touch him; a month during which their only communication had been glances across court rooms and psychiatry offices.

Bruce tried to remind himself that he had gone most of his life without knowing John at all, and that there had been an entire year between when they had met in Arkham and when John had reconnected with him at Lucius’s funeral, but neither seemed even remotely possible now.

And the fact that it had to be _now_ of all times that they couldn’t see one another was pure torture. Now, when they had both stopped pretending that their relationship was based on friendship alone. Now, when Bruce was faced with so many questions, and could see so many possibilities stretching out before the two of them.

Bruce had always suspected that John’s admiration for him wasn’t purely platonic, but hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up too much in case Bruce’s own love for John had been making him read too much into things. Of course, Bruce could hardly blame John for darting around the issue when he had also remained silent, too afraid of rejection, of finding out that John really was as madly in love with Harley as he insisted, and that there was no room in John’s heart for Bruce to be anything more than a friend.

But none of that mattered now because Bruce  _knew_. He knew that John was in love with him.

_‘To be loved by you…’_

The words haunted Bruce as he tried to fall asleep, colored every moment when their eyes met and every memory Bruce had of the time he had shared with John. 

Bruce finally  _knew_. He hadn’t been imagining things. John really was in love with him, or at least he had been at the beginning. There were still so many questions though; questions that Bruce desperately needed answers to. For a start, Bruce couldn’t be entirely sure that he hadn’t, in the course of everything that had happened between the two of them, lost John’s love forever.

There had been a moment, when John was being loaded up into the back of a GCPD vehicle, his face still covered in blood and smeared face paint, when their eyes had met, and it had suddenly struck Bruce that this could be the end. If he didn’t do something then their relationship might be broken completely and John might never want to see him again. Bruce couldn’t let that happen. He just couldn’t.

“John,” Batman had called out softly, needing to know that John was definitely going to hear what he was about to say. “Back there; what you said you wanted from me? I did.”

He had loved John. He still did.

It was not, perhaps, the most elegant way that Bruce could have chosen to confess his love. He wasn’t even sure that John had understood what he meant. The one thing that gave him hope was the fact that John’s eyes had grown wide for a moment before the back door of the police van had been slammed shut and life had torn the two of them apart.

They had been apart from one another now for far too long. 

There was a weird sort of electricity in the air as Bruce followed an asylum guard towards John’s room, all the anticipation and nervous excitement and desire seeming to spark above Bruce’s head and dance like lightning down to his fingertips.

Bruce tried to tell himself that things might still go wrong; that he might walk out of Arkham Asylum with nothing but a broken heart, but for the first time in what felt like forever he actually felt optimistic about a potential romantic relationship, despite the fact that the other half of said potential relationship was stuck in a mental asylum. He wasn’t sure that said anything good about him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

The guard came to a stop in front of a door that looked much the same as all of the others in that particular wing.

“Visitor for John Doe,” the guard announced.

There was the sound of someone moving in the room beyond, and Bruce suddenly realized that he wasn’t ready for this. He could never be ready for this. He was going to see John again and he wanted to see John again. He did. He wanted it so badly, but it was too much. Being around John was always too much. How could Bruce ever be prepared to see him again?

The food slot halfway up the door opened, and John’s face appeared. Bruce straightened his tie, something that he knew he tended to do a lot when he was nervous.

This was it. Was John going to be happy to see him?

“Bruce!” John exclaimed, a wide smile breaking out on his face as soon as their eyes met.

“Hi John,” Bruce said, trying to play it cool and not give away the fact that it felt as though his heart was about to leap out of his chest.

He knew that the Asylum saw John as being far too dangerous to be allowed one on one visits just yet, but Bruce had come prepared. He gave the guard one of his most charming smiles, and slipped him a handful of cash; enough that even the most morally outstanding of guards would probably at least consider Bruce’s proposition. Luckily for Bruce he already knew that a lot of the guards at Arkham were not exactly beacons of integrity.

“What’s this for?” the guard asked, holding the money but not yet pocketing it, as though there might still be a chance that he would decline Bruce’s offer.

“I was hoping to have some time alone with my friend here,” Bruce explained. God, he hadn’t laid the charm on this thickly in a long time. He only hoped that it would work.

“You ain’t gonna kill him or anything, right?” the guard asked.

Bruce tried not to be offended.

“Of course not,” he said. “I just want to have a private chat with John here. All you have to do is let me in and make sure that no-one disturbs us.”

The guard contemplated the money in his hand once more before frowning up at Bruce.

“This better not come back to bite me in the arse,” he grumbled. “You hear me Wayne?”

“Don’t worry,” Bruce replied. “It won’t.”

The guard swore under his breath as he reached for the key to John’s room.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Bruce said. “You’re going to make sure there isn’t any evidence of my visit today, right?”

The guard cursed beneath his breath again. This time Bruce caught just enough of it to know that he really _should_ have been offended by what the guard said, but honestly, being called a ‘fucking rich douchebag who thinks he can do whatever he wants’ bothered him far less than the assumption that he was going to hurt John.

The guard was soon grumbling into his walkie-talkie, despite his complaints.

“Yeah Matt. Looks like we’ve got a camera outage in B wing. Room 47.” There was a pause as the guard waited for someone, presumably ‘Matt’ to finish speaking. “Yeah, John Doe’s room. Probably gonna be out for an hour or so while we fix it.”

Bruce had never before been so glad that the staff at Arkham were so thoroughly corrupt and willing to take bribes. It was an elegant system that the guards had set up, and Bruce found himself wondering how much money it would take to ensure that he was the _only_ visitor allowed to get one on one time with John. He wasn’t sure that there was anyone left in the outside world that might hate John enough to try to get at him in Arkham, but Bruce wasn’t willing to take any risks, not when it came to John’s safety.

All throughout Bruce’s conversation with the guard John had been watching them through the food slot. Bruce had caught him glancing between himself and the guard, and had felt his heart clench a little at every hint glimpse he got of John’s acid-green eyes.

John jumped back when the door opened, and Bruce could see him twitching, just as excited (and probably nervous) about the visit as Bruce himself was feeling. Seeing all of John at once now; seeing him back in the plain Arkham jumpsuit that Bruce had first met him in, was almost too much. He didn’t know what to do first; whether he should tell John that he missed him, or ask how John was doing, or whether he should just wrap John up in his arms and never let go.

Bruce had been so busy just staring at John that when the door closed behind him, it seemed so loud and so unexpected that he actually jumped a little.

Bruce and John continued to stare at one another for one heartbeat, and then two, the air between them so full of unacknowledged energy that Bruce felt as though he might explode, and then John was throwing himself at Bruce, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s waist and pressing his face into Bruce’s shoulder.

The first time John had hugged him, Bruce had been so stunned that he hadn’t known what to do. He had just stood there and let John squeeze him, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was suddenly beating far too loudly in his own ears. This time though it was like his body reacted almost instinctively, his arms immediately coming up to wrap around John and hold him close.

Bruce turned his head so that he could press his face into the top of John’s head, his cheek coming to rest in the thick, green waves of John’s hair. He breathed in John deeply, having not realized exactly how much he had missed the other man’s smell until that moment.

Bruce didn’t know how long the two of them stayed like that; just silently holding one another in the middle of the room, but eventually John started to pull back. Bruce reluctantly let him go. He was seized by the urge to reach out and grab John’s hand and make sure that John stayed right by him.

Bruce didn’t have anything to fear though. John might have pulled back from the hug, but he wasn’t pulling back from Bruce entirely. His hands came to a stop on Bruce’s shoulders, where they gently clutched and pulled at the fabric of Bruce’s suit in what Bruce could only assume was a nervous gesture.

“Bruce,” John murmured. “Bruce, Bruce, Bruce…”

His hands moved down from Bruce’s shoulders, one trailing down his arm and the other coming up to press against the side of Bruce’s face, as though he couldn’t quite believe that Bruce was really there.

“You actually came!” he said, before grabbing hold of both of Bruce’s arms.

“Of course I did,” Bruce said. “You didn’t think I’d leave you all alone in here, did you?”

John smiled, and then shook his head, although Bruce wasn’t entirely sure that the headshaking was intended as a response to his own words. John’s fingers continued to clutch at Bruce’s arms, and even though Bruce wanted to wrap his arms around John again he didn’t want to lose the feeling of John’s fingers pressing into him just that little bit too hard, as though Bruce was about to disappear at any second, and it was only John’s grip on him that was keeping him in place.

John’s face suddenly fell, his eyes falling to the ground as though he couldn’t meet Bruce’s eyes any more.

“That… that thing that you said, when the G.C.P.D. grabbed me,” John muttered. “I… I’ve been wanting to ask you about it so badly. Did that…”

John took a deep breath and then lifted his gaze once more, bright green eyes meeting with Bruce’s own once more, the intensity of the stare almost enough to take Bruce’s breath away.

“Did that mean what I think it meant?” John asked. “That… that you…?”

John glanced at the door, and then back at Bruce, as though he was afraid that the guard would separate them as soon as they started talking about something so intimate.

Bruce reached up, grabbing hold of one of John’s forearms and gently prying him off Bruce. He then moved to entwine his hand with John’s own, both of them wrapping their fingers between and around one another’s as tightly as they could.

Bruce led John over to the bed, not exactly sure what he was planning, but sure that he wanted to be sitting down when he next spoke. John continued to watch him closely as the two of them settled on the bed, their hands still entwined between them. Bruce noticed John swallowing nervously and then found himself doing the same.

Whatever he did next, he wanted to make sure that he did it right this time.

“John,” he began, making sure that he kept eye contact with the other man. “What I meant was that I… I love you.”

John gasped, his eyes and mouth both going wide.

Bruce wasn’t sure that he had ever felt as nervous as he did during the time it took John to respond to his confession. He knew that in reality John would have only been silent for a matter of seconds, but it felt like an eternity to him. He waited for John to wrap his arms around Bruce again, or for him to say that he loved Bruce as well, or for well… something. Anything.

The silence went on for just long enough that Bruce began to fear that he had somehow misread the situation; that he had read too much into John’s words and actions, and that John did not actually love Bruce in the same way that Bruce loved him.

Eventually John reached out towards Bruce with his free hand, which was visibly shaking. It landed again on Bruce’s face, where it traced his cheeks and nose and then made its way down to his mouth and chin. His thumb traced Bruce’s lips, and Bruce resisted the urge to kiss it, but it was a very close thing.

“How… how much can I have?” John asked.

“Don’t worry,” Bruce replied, grabbing John’s hand as it suddenly retreated and bringing it back to rest on the side of his face once more. “I’m pretty sure they’ve turned the cameras off. As long… as long as we’re quiet then I think we’ll be fine.”

John chuckled, before his other hand finally let go of Bruce’s own, moving up instead to rest on Bruce’s chest.

“Oh, I’m not worried about them Bruce,” John said, grinning wickedly in a way that had all of the blood in Bruce’s body immediately heading south. “I heard your exchange out there in the hallway. I see the old Bruce Wayne charm still works just fine.”

John’s hand slipped beneath Bruce’s jacket, running over the thin fabric of his shirt and causing Bruce to shudder in anticipation.

“You’re too charming Bruce,” John said, fixing Bruce with another devilish grin. “It makes you impossible to resist. You know that, right?”

Bruce wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, but John seemed almost overwhelmingly close. It would be so easy to simply lean in and kiss him now, and Bruce was quickly running out of reasons why he shouldn’t do exactly that.

“I’m asking _you_ Bruce,” John said, keeping his eyes locked with Bruce’s in that slightly unnerving way that he had. “How much can I have? Where are the limits?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce eventually replied. “But I do know I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”

John let out a gentle gasp.

Bruce had been planning to hold John’s head in his hands, to kiss him slowly and gently, letting all of his love for John flow from his mouth into John’s, but he didn’t get a chance to do that.

John was suddenly all over him, Bruce’s confession apparently all that he had needed to let go of any restraint he might have been maintaining before that moment.

John’s teeth clashed with Bruce’s own, their lips smashing against one another in a way that was sure to leave bruises if Bruce allowed John to continue it for too long. Instead of stopping it though he opened his mouth, letting out a moan when John took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

John was clumsy and overeager but it didn’t matter because Bruce was finally, at long last kissing him. 

Bruce’s hands hovered uselessly over John’s back for a moment. Now that he was actually allowed to touch John, he couldn’t make up his mind how and where he wanted to touch first. He’d dreamed of running his hands through John’s hair, if only to see whether it was as soft as it looked, but it was tempting too, to run his hands all over John’s body; to learn the feeling of his chest or back or hips and find out exactly where John was thin and where Bruce could feel the muscles, firm and surprisingly strong beneath his pale skin. Part of Bruce’s mind caught on the thought of John’s rear, on finally being able to grab it, to hear John moan as Bruce’s fingers dug into John’s absolutely exquisite arse, but that was probably moving too fast.

In the end one hand settled in John’s hair, while the other clutched at John’s back, both of them simply pulling John closer and keeping him there, Bruce still a little afraid that this beautiful man and everything that he had come to mean to Bruce was going to be taken away from him at any second.

Bruce hadn’t allowed himself to hope for much more than a kiss, but they were already far past that. John’s hands were already roaming all over him, caressing his side and threading through his hair and… oh god, squeezing his rear, and if John was allowed to do that then surely Bruce was as well.

Both of his hands moved down, each of them grabbing one of John’s cheeks and squeezing. John let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a scream as he did so, one that was probably far too loud considering that there was still a guard standing right outside the door.

“Hush,” Bruce whispered, between planting gentle kisses on John’s cheek. “We can’t be too loud, remember?”

John let out another, softer groan and practically collapsed onto Bruce’s shoulder when Bruce next squeezed his rear.

“Bruce,” he moaned. “That feels so good.”

Bruce’s breath caught in his throat. This was like every wet dream he’d had about John, only so much better, because he was right there and Bruce could feel him. Bruce adjusted his hold on John’s rear and lifted him up, shifting him into Bruce’s lap, where he immediately pressed up against Bruce, their chests pressed as closely together as they possibly could while one of John’s hands was still roaming around beneath Bruce’s clothing.

Bruce was vaguely aware of John tugging at his tie, trying to loosen it. Bruce knew that he should probably help John to remove it, but that would mean letting go of John’s arse, and he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do that; not now that this was finally happening.

And oh god, it _was_ happening, wasn’t it? Bruce had a feeling that neither of them were going to be able to stop now that they had started; not until they were panting, bliss-filled messes wrapped up each other limbs, or until one of the asylum guards or orderlies burst into the room and forcefully separated the two of them.

John writhed in Bruce’s lap, certain parts of their anatomy pressing hard against one another, and Bruce found himself, for one desperate moment, hoping that the security camera really had been turned off, because if it hadn’t then they were definitely going to get in trouble for what he was about to do.

John had given up on the tie, and had started undoing the buttons on Bruce’s shirt, starting from the bottom and working his way up. He had just finished undoing the second of the buttons when Bruce moved his hands, slipping them beneath the loose elastic of John’s regulation Arkham jumpsuit.

That caused another cry from John; one which might have been a little too loud if it wasn’t for the fact that Bruce’s mouth was still mostly smothering his own.

Bruce pulled back from the kiss, once he was sure that John had finished moaning, and made sure to catch John’s eyes with his own. He didn’t want to stop any time soon, but he needed to know that he and John were on the same page with this; that he wasn’t going too far.

“John,” Bruce whispered. “John, buddy, look at me?”

His hands continued to roam over John’s rear, caressing and squeezing gently. When John looked up at him Bruce was blown away by how far gone John already appeared to be. His eyes were blown wide with lust; his lips flushed red from the kisses and bites that the two of them had barely ceased trading since the first one that John had placed on Bruce’s lips.

“Bruce?” John breathed out, the name spoken like something holy; like a prayer; as though John still didn’t believe that Bruce was right there with him.

Bruce gave another squeeze. John threw his head back, and started to let out another groan that was definitely too loud, but this time he bit down on his bottom lip, stifling the noise himself before it went on for too long.

“John?” Bruce whispered, trying to get John’s attention again.

John’s eyes settled on Bruce’s face once more, and Bruce could tell that he was having trouble focusing.

“If we keep going then we’re going to end up having sex,” Bruce whispered.

This time it took John clamping both of his hands on top of his mouth to smother the strange part-whimper, part-groan, part-squeal that emerged from his throat.

Bruce reached a hand up to caress the side of John’s face, brushing aside one of John’s hands as he did so. John’s hand came to rest on Bruce’s shoulder, and even that touch felt almost too warm and too electric to Bruce when he was trying to concentrate on talking.

“Is that all right?” Bruce asked.

He wasn’t sure how he had expected John to react to such a question, but it wasn’t with the loud burst of laughter that suddenly erupted from his throat.

The sound immediately put Bruce on edge, not because he was worried by the sound itself; this was a softer, kinder laugh than the one that he had heard in Ace Chemicals when John had broken, or whenever John had been feeling nervous; but because it might have been loud enough for the guard outside to hear.

Laughter wouldn’t be anything that the guard would worry about though, right? Laughter meant that everything was going swimmingly. Bruce still worried that John was being too loud. He didn’t want this to be taken away from him; not now when he finally had John in his arms.

“What the heck are you talking about Bruce?” John said once he had finished cackling.

Bruce watched John carefully, still not entirely sure what had prompted the sudden burst of laughter. God, no-one had ever managed to keep Bruce feeling off-balance the way that John did, and perhaps it said terrible things about Bruce and his psyche, but he couldn’t get enough of it.

John leaned in closer, and for a moment Bruce thought that John was going to start kissing him again before giving any sort of proper answer. John stopped just short of their lips touching though, his eyes looking deep inside of Bruce’s, despite the fact that they were so close now that it was hard to focus on each other faces.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” John said, tugging at the waistline of Bruce’s pants as he did so. “Why would I ever want you to stop?”

There was no space left in Bruce’s mind for doubt anymore; not with the fresh and almost overwhelming wave of desire that John’s words brought out in him.

He found himself grabbing John’s rear again and holding him down as Bruce’s groin arched up into him. He repeated the action again and again, and each time it brought out a whimper that was barely stifled by John’s mistreatment of his own bottom lip.

“Bruce!” John gasped out after the fourth thrust, his hands suddenly moving all over Bruce’s belt and fly, seemingly desperate to get it undone.

Bruce resisted the urge to buck up against John again, and found himself instead tugging and pulling at John’s simple, Arkham-issued pants, pulling both them and his underwear down in one go, until John’s rear was completely exposed. Bruce’s hands then moved to the front, to John’s groin, where the elastic of John’s pants had to be pulled up and over what was a very obvious erection.

The sight of John’s cock standing straight up for him was enough to make Bruce’s breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t even close to fully recovering from that when he felt John’s fingers wrapping around the length of Bruce’s own erection, and he found himself cursing beneath his breath. He had been so focused on removing John’s clothes that he hadn’t realized how far John had managed to get with his own pants.

His belt was gone, tossed aside to somewhere that Bruce would need to find it later. His tie was loose and his shirt was half undone, and, more important than all of that; his fly was undone and his pants had been lowered, just enough that John could free Bruce’s cock from his pants.

When Bruce looked at John’s face next, he found the other man staring down, seemingly mesmerized by the sight of his own hand wrapped around Bruce’s cock, where it was moving up and down; pumping Bruce at an almost torturously slow pace.

It was too much. Bruce couldn’t take it anymore. One of his hands moved up to the back of John’s head, pulling him in for another kiss and holding him close as Bruce ravaged John’s mouth.

When he pulled back they were both panting.

“God, I want you so much right now John,” Bruce whispered.

John’s only reply was to practically collapse against Bruce with a broken, desperate whimper.

Bruce moved his hands back to John’s rear. He watched the man in his arms very closely as he let a couple of his fingers brush against John’s entrance. The reaction was instantaneous, and everything that Bruce could have hoped for.

His hand left Bruce’s cock so that both of his arms could wrap around Bruce’s shoulders, and he started to writhe forward in Bruce’s lap, pressing against Bruce so that their erections came in contact with one another. Bruce’s fingers began to caress and stretch John’s hole as he writhed, until John had become little more than a desperate, whimpering mess.

“Please,” John begged, his voice cracking, even though he had barely whispered the plea. “Bruce, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. Please…”

Bruce wasn’t sure that he had ever been so turned on in his life.

He reached beneath John’s legs, lifting him up and pulling him closer at the same time. With a bit of work John was able to kick off his pants, leaving his long slender legs completely bare, along with his rear and his cock.

“Bruce!” John explained, pushing forward again and making Bruce almost lose his grip.

“Hush,” Bruce whispered, as he tried to line the two of them back up. “We have to be quiet, remember?”

Bruce found himself smiling, and he wasn’t sure whether it was because of the ridiculousness of the situation, or whether it was just because he had missed John and he was so happy that he finally had him in his arms and they were finally, thank god, actually doing this, or whether he had perhaps finally snapped, but after a moment he found himself giggling as well.

John grinned at Bruce, a devilish grin that promised mischief for them both.

“Why don’t you make me?” he challenged Bruce, before pushing his rear back into Bruce’s hands, openly encouraging him.

Bruce could hardly resist such an open challenge. His hands quickly settled beneath John’s upper thighs, and he lifted him up from the bed in one swift movement.

John squealed, his legs quickly coming up to wrap up around Bruce’s waist to help Bruce support his weight. Bruce pushed John up against the nearest wall, checking on John as he did only to discover that John was grinning almost too widely at this new development.

Bruce let go of one of John’s thighs, letting John and the wall behind him take some of John’s weight, and then lined himself up with John’s entrance, before pushing slowly inside.

He watched John closely as he pushed further inside, seeing the other man’s pupils expand to an almost ridiculously large size before his eyes closed. John’s mouth opened wide and he started to let out a groan, but Bruce surged forward, pressing his mouth to John’s own and smothering the rest of the moan in a kiss.

They settled for a moment, Bruce letting John grow used to the sensation of Bruce being inside of him. John started to move before Bruce did, trying to lift himself up without much success and then pushing back against Bruce in a clear attempt to get him moving.

Bruce took the hint, and started to thrust in and out of John as much as their position would allow. At first he moved slowly, each individual thrust already being almost more than he could stand. After only a handful of thrusts he already felt as though he was far too close to finishing. He wanted this to last. He wanted it to go on forever, but it was just too good; too perfect. He finally had John and John was groaning in pleasure and smiling throughout all of it, and kissing him, on the lips or on Bruce’s neck.

Soon Bruce was thrusting in and out with all of the strength he could find. John held onto him throughout it, his forehead pressed to Bruce’s neck, his breath warm, even through the fabric of Bruce’s jacket and shirt. John let out another whimper, and then he was wrapping himself around Bruce as tightly as he could manage. Bruce felt a dull pain in his shoulder, and he realized, with some shock, that John was biting down through Bruce’s jacket and shirt, not in an effort to hurt Bruce or make him uncomfortable, but just to smother the long, loud groan that emerged from his throat.

Bruce felt the other man’s body shake in his arms and clench around his cock, and when he looked down, he discovered that sure enough, John was coming. Bruce swore beneath his breath, not because John was leaving stains all over Bruce’s stomach and pants and shirt, but because it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer now.

He let out a loud, low moan before he could stop himself.

He felt John chuckle into his shoulder at that.

“Sshh Bruce,” John whispered into his ear, before planting a quick kiss on the rim of it. “We have to be quiet, remember? Wouldn’t want old nosy pants out there to hear you scream my name or anything like that now, would we?”

John sounded absolutely exhausted and thoroughly fucked, and yet Bruce could hear the smile on the other man’s face. He caught another hint of a chuckle, and then that was it.

Later Bruce would wonder on the fact that it was that one small chuckle that finally sent him over the edge. He would ask himself whether the subtle laughter had served as a simple reminder as to who it was he had been making love to, or whether it was John’s joy, or perhaps even the reminder of something darker, that had him holding John as close as he possibly could and burying his own cries of pleasure against John’s neck in something caught halfway between and kiss and a bite of his own.

They stayed together for a while after they had both finished, Bruce still buried inside John and John’s legs still wrapped tightly around Bruce’s waist. They pressed their foreheads against one another as they simply breathed the same air and tried to come down from what had honestly been the best sex that Bruce had ever had.

It was John that finally broke the silence.

“Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, as though he had forgotten something important. “I love you too Bruce.”

“What?” Bruce murmured, feeling as though he had missed a vital step in the conversation.

“I didn’t say it before,” John said. “When you told me, I didn’t say it back. I was just so caught up in everything else, you know? So; I love you too.”

“I love you,” Bruce said with a chuckle.

John chuckled as well.

“I think we got it backwards just now,” John said.

Bruce helped the other man back to his bed, where they reluctantly untangled themselves from one another. Luckily Bruce had a handkerchief on hand, which couldn’t completely clean up the mess they had both made, but which definitely helped.

“Perhaps we can get it right next time,” Bruce said.

“So there’s definitely going to be a next time,” John said, waggling his eyebrows at Bruce.

“Many next times,” Bruce said. “As long as you’ll have me.”

John chuckled softly at that.

“You can come and visit me whenever you want Bruce,” John said. “Seriously. Any time at all. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Bruce didn’t know whether they had actually succeeded in staying quiet enough that the guard out in the hallway would have remained ignorant as to what the two of them were up to, but he did know that he would gladly pay whatever it took to make sure that the guard continued to look the other way if necessary, and even if that didn’t work, there was always Batman, and the possibility of making his way into Arkham and inside John’s cell through less than legal means.

Bruce knew now that nothing would be able to keep him and John apart ever again. No matter what it took, he _would_ find a way to hold John in his arms again.


End file.
